#unsurprisingly she’s now passed out in the chair. as god intended

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m so indebted to the word zooted because there’s really no other way to describe Mabel’s state after she gets in from a walk

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Bad At Love

Call It What You Want (3/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x reader

A/N: finallyyyyy Im gonna slowburn the shit outta this (gif not mine btw and I’m terrible at summaries)

Chapter summary: you spend your free weekend the trio. Mondays are the absolute worst.

Warning: swearing, a terrible relationship, one bad pun(that I do not regret)

Word count: ~1.6k

—-

“Yeah but don’t over mix it,” You instruct Finn as he siftes flour into the mixing bowl, mixing it in with the eggs and sugar.

Rey and Poe sit at the dining table, watching the two of you bake. After melting a spatula by accident, Finn had banned Rey from the kitchen for the rest of the day. Poe wasn’t allowed in from the beginning, much to his chagrin, but Finn had insisted, saying that it was the best decision, if he still wanted to have a kitchen by the end of the day.

So it was left with you and Finn. The plan was to make cookies and popcorn and watch holiday movies the whole weekend.

Usually, you would spend your weekends alone, or with Jessika, binge watching netflix shows or working. Jessika calls you boring for that, but if you went out to parties like she did, you’d probably be hiding away from everyone else anyways. So this was a much better option for you.

Rey had insisted that you spend the day with her at Finn’s place. Somehow that had turned into a sleepover and here you are in her pajamas making cookies in the kitchen. You really enjoy spending time with the three of them and you’re really glad Rey cared about you enough to practically drag your antisocial ass into their plans.

“Are you done yet?” Rey whines loudly from her seat.

“We haven’t even put it in the oven!” Finn exclaims, exasperated.

“We could just eat the cookie dough,” Poe chips in much to Reys delight but both Finn and you simultaneously shoot down the suggestion.

“Poe, you’re a med student, you should know better!” Finn adds on as Poe slumps in his seat, pouting. The truth was, you and Finn had already eaten a tiny bit of cookie dough, just to taste test. You know the children will insist on having some too, if they found out you did. “Go pick a movie to put on, at least,”

Rey perks up again, sprinting out of her seat, “Oh we’re watching Home Alone!” Poe sprints after her, yelling, “What no! We’ve watched it a million times already!”

Literal children.

The cookies turn out pretty good in the end. Finn makes Rey and Poe set up the rest of the things, just to keep them away from the kitchen.

Before you know it, you are watching Home Alone, snuggled up in a comfortable blanket with Rey. A huge warm bowl of carmel, butter popcorn sits on your lap. Peaceful and comfortable. Until Rey swipes the whole bowl from you, “I love you, but leave some for the rest of us,”

You try to snatch It back, almost practically wailing, “I made cookies for you, you evil woman,” you hear snickering from the other couch and whip your head around, screeching, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Poe completely loses it and Finn casually pushes him off when he falls in top of him laughing, while you continue glaring at them. Rey makes use of the distraction and shoves a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “We made those cookies, give me some credit too!” Finn exclaims, offended by your statement.

“Okay fine, our cookies,” you concede.

“Hey I helped too!” Rey exclaimes.

“Oh yes, the secret ingredient. One melted spatula,” you snark her.

“Oh burn! Pun intended,” Poe chimes in.

Unsurprisingly, this is how the entire evening goes. The four of you spend it bickering playfully instead of watching the movie, but you weren’t complaining.

—-

Poe Dameron hated being alone, more than anything. Once, he was a kid, who had parents who loved him and a place he called home. Then suddenly he was moving to live with his godmother in an entirely different state, in a big house that just never felt like home. But at least he had Finn and Rey.

Then he’d gone to college and Finn and Rey had gotten together. They weren’t big on PDA or anything. They never did anything to make Poe feel uncomfortable or left out. But Poe couldn’t help but feel like an intruder sometimes. Somedays he’d catch them in the couch together, cuddling, watching a movie at night. And he’d just slink along the dark and shut himself in his room without uttering a single word to them. Intruder.

In a way, he had always been jealous of them. It had always been Finn and Rey, even before he became part of their duo. He just wanted to have a bond like theirs with someone. Someone who would be willing to put him before anybody else. He wanted to be the first person someone would run to if they have a problem or the first person someone would call when they have a piece of happy news to share. He wanted to be someone’s first choice, to belong with someone.

But somehow, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even come close to finding something like that. He’d had his fair share of bad relationships, in his rush to find that someone. He had so much to give, no one to give to.

“Hello?” Carefully manicured fingers snap infront of his face. Poe startles slightly. Great, he zoned out again. “You’re not even listening to me,” Sarah leans back into her chair, displeasure etched on her face.

“No no, I’m listening. Just tired,” he takes a swig of his coffee.

Whatever he has with Sarah, he knew it wouldn’t last. They don’t work together and he was aware of it. But at this point, having something felt better than nothing. He knew she didn’t love him. If she did, Poe would’ve given anything to make it work.

Yes, he was aware of how desperate he sounded.

“Yeah, whatever,” she dismisses him with a wave. “You wanna go back to my place for the night?” A sultry smile spreads in her face, fingers lacing with his, on top of the table. Sarah was a good girlfriend sometimes. She’d buy him coffee, ask him how his day was, be nice to him. But that was only if she wanted something in return.

Poe sighs heavily, “I can’t tonight. Sorry babe,” babe. It sounds so fake to his own ears. There was once when the endearment felt sweet on his tongue, and he wanted to say it, every chance he got. Now, it feels like a lie. Like he’s fooling himself.

Warm fingers withdraw from his, and the smile slips right off her face. “Alright then,” her words are clipped, nothing like the tone used on a lover. Sarah collects her belongings from the table, her cup of coffee lays half-empty beside his. “Have fun, studying,” She snaps, rising from her seat abruptly, and marching out of the coffee shop. Poe doesn’t try to stop her.

He hasn’t been over to her place in weeks. He wasn’t actually busy tonight, he just didn’t want to go. He hadn’t wanted to for some time. Maybe he was finally sick of his own girlfriend treating him like, as Finn liked to call it, a booty call. Blowing up his phone when she felt like it, then leaving him high and dry for as long as she wanted after that. Finn just doesn’t understand why Poe would let himself be treated like that. To be honest, Poe doesn’t as well.

—-

Mondays suck. You particularly hate this monday, after the sleepover you had at Finn’s over the weekend. The four of you had passed out on the couch that night, crashing from sugar high after eating way too many cookies and popcorn for just four people. Although Finn still insists it was just the right. You had so much fun nonetheless.

Your professor’s droning had already put half the people in the lecture hall to sleep. You try your best to stay awake, although you know you are fighting a losing battle. The guy beside you had long since given up, it seems. His head is resting on the table and he is fast asleep.

You had managed to spend an entire semester not uttering a single word to the guy who had been sitting next to you for literally every single lecture. That was how bad you were at making friends. Maybe you had smiled at the tall, dark haired dude, once, at the beginning of the semester, but that was it.

Maybe part of the reason he chose to sit beside you was because he was just as quite as you. He mostly kept to himself. Occasionally you’d see him talk to one or two people here and there, but that was it. You weren’t complaining, really. You were perfectly content with finishing the whole semester without uttering a single word to him. But it seemed your professor had a different plan.

Your professor slams his palm on the front desk to get everyone’s attention. A few figures jump at the sudden noise and a few others groan, but everyone was awake.

“I know the topic is a little dry but come on, guys,” he says. “I’m making an announcement about the final assessment, at least pay attention to that,” Your professor was pretty cool. He was willing to go above and beyond for anyone who asked for help although the lectures literally bored everyone to hell. You fish out your notebook from your bag, ready to jot down whatever he was going to say. “The final assessment, will be done in pairs,” In pairs? Why had god abandoned you? Who were you going to ask? You didn’t know anyone in the class. You take it back, your professor was not cool.

Thankfully before you could start going partner hunting, the guy beside you turns to face you and he asks, “Hey, would you mind pairing up with me for this assignment?” You don’t hesitate before agreeing, relieved by the turn of events.

He flashes you a smile, “I’m Ben Solo,”

—-

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth

[ablueeyesangel]

Deep end part3

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader Hvitserk x Reader Sigurd x Reader Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1361

A/N: Look like this will have some more chapters. I don't know what will happen here but I like write this so I will try update soon. Also, Helga, Sigurd and Aslaug is alive here because I'm not following the show.

part1 part2

You felt the pain pass through your body as soon as you felt waking up. It was all a confusing blur and you begin to wonder what was real. Had you really stabbed yourself or just dreamed about it?

It was a dream, wasn't it? It could only be a dream. But it wasn't and you realized as soon as you opened your eyes.

There was a fair-skinned blond woman with blue eyes covered with black paint.

"Be quiet, child." She said in peculiar accent and calm voice. You didn't know if you wanted to cry over the pain in your body or the fact that you're still stuck in this nightmare.

"My name is Helga and I'll take care of you." She said quietly as she passed a thick folder on your belly.

"We were all worried about you," she said in an almost motherly tone. You doubted that was true, but you decided not to debate the woman. She was the first really kind person you had met wherever this place was.

"With a good rest you'll be fine," Helga said before stroking your hair affectionately. "I'll let them know you woke up."

"No!" You screamed and quickly regretted it when a sharp pain arose in your belly.

"I need to tell them, child." The woman almost seemed to pity. But she also seemed to trust those strange men. You did not want to see them. From the first moment you saw them everything seemed to go wrong. When you realized the woman was leaving, you held her hand to stop her.

"Ivar." You whispered with difficulty. You didn't know why you chose to say that name, but it was the only one you remembered to hear. And as much as he didn't do anything to help you, he didn't do anything to hurt you either.

The woman nodded before leaving.

××××××××××××××

"I don't understand what it's taking so long." Ubbe grunted impatiently as he paced.

“She stabbed her damn belly. Why would she do that? ”Hvitserk asked with a mixture of anger and indignation before taking a sip of his drink.

"Maybe she's one of those Christians who would rather die and be with her God than live among the filthy pagans." Ivar said in a sarcastic tone as he remembered how much you cursed them.

“It wasn't that. Something very strange happened, she thought she was sleeping.” Hvitserk said feeling confused again as he remembers the scene. He could not understand why anyone would stab their own belly.

“Now that you mention it, it really did look very strange. She looked at me like she had never seen me before.” Sigurd said frowning in momentary confusion.

While his brothers drowned in confusion, Ivar found it all very intriguing.

"Do you think she was faking it?" He asked looking at the confused and worried brothers.

"I don't think anyone can fake it so well," Ubbe said before finally stopping pacing.

Helga came into the tent abruptly, silencing them.

The four looked at her expectantly.

"She'll be fine, just need to rest and have some herb teas," Helga explained quickly.

"Great, let's see her." Hvitserk said already walking out of the tent, but was soon interrupted by Helga who prevented him from leaving.

“I need to ask. What are you really want with this girl? ”Helga asked in a more protective tone than she intended. She wasn't about to get into other people's business, but she couldn't help it since they'd asked her to take care of you.

"I wouldn't wonder if I didn't find it extremely strange that you four were interested in the same girl." she explained quickly. Unsurprisingly, Ubbe and Hvitserk shared everything. And Helga knew that the four of them had shared the same slave, but that was different. They were having a lot of effort to keep someone.

The four exchanged glances before Uber answered. "We just found her interesting." When Helga frowned at them with a dubious look he asked again. "What?"

"She was hurt."

"We already explained what happened, she stabbed herself." Hvitserk said annoyed that he was still talking when he wanted to be questioning you for what you did.

"I'm not talking about the stab," Helga explained irritably. "She had scratches on her legs and hands, her wrists had marks and she had a cut on her forehead."

"We had to tie her up," Sigurd stated almost shamefully. He felt guilty, even knowing that when he let you go you stabbed him and ran.

When Helga was still assessing them with her eyes, Hvitserk snorted before asking. "May I pass now?"

"Not you. She just wants Ivar.” Helga said in a firm tone to make sure they would obey her.

“Ivar? Why him?”Sigurd asked in a mixture of anger and indignation.

"I don't know, but she just said his name." Helga explained before leaving the tent and leaving the brothers alone.

×××××××××××××

You stared at the roof of the tent while you waited for no one to really come to see you. Being ignored seemed like the best option while you were trapped in this strange place.

You swore to yourself never to sleep once you woke up.

A few minutes passed before you heard a crashing sound on the dirt floor and a slight drag.

The man you remembered, Ivar, entered the tent with a crutch. You frowned as you watched as him walked over to a chair by your bed.

He looked much taller now that you could watch him standing.

"I can't say I wasn't surprised when I heard you had called me." The blue eyes watched you with interest and curiosity.

You were too tired to try to answer it. And to be honest you wouldn't know what to say.

"Why did you do that, Y / N?" Ivar asked, intrigued.

For a moment you wondered if he was asking about the stab or the fact that you called him.

"My brothers said you wanted to wake up." He said slowly as if sincerely trying to understand.

You knew you looked crazy. Increasingly this seemed like complete madness. Your dream was too real but also totally impossible. These people were very different, primitive. They could not be real, but on the other hand, you were still here with them. And they talk and act like they know you and like you're acting weird.

You looked away, staring back at the ceiling. Better to keep ignoring him, so maybe he would leave.

“Tell me, Y / N. Why did you want to wake up?” Ivar insisted now in a firmer tone. He didn't want to scare her, but his wasn't patient.

As soon as Hvitserk talked about your strange attitude he was intrigued. There was a reason they were so insistent on keeping you, and he knew that whatever was going on wasn't just a coincidence.

The rude tone didn't scare you, you were actually taken by surprise. Did he really believe you?

"Don't you think I'm crazy?" You asked in an almost whisper turning to face him.

"I still do not know. You tell me. Do you think you're crazy? ”Ivar asked quietly.

"Sometimes." You answered truthfully.

When you realized that he would not ask any more questions you decided to speak. He looked a little awkward in these weird clothes and very attentive eyes, but still it seemed a nicer encounter than what you had with his brothers.

“I don't remember the things your brothers say I did. I don't remember their names or what happened before I was running in the woods.” You explained calmly hoping he would still believe you when you were done. You didn't understand why you were being honest with him, maybe you just wanted to be understood. Maybe you just wanted to open up with someone and stop feeling crazy for a few minutes.

Ivar frowned. Had Hvitserk hit you too hard in the head and now you didn't remember things? "And that's why you think it was a dream?"

"No, I just don't think I'm who you think I am. This is not the life I remember. ”

[yeehawbisexualold]

Friendship Is Nice. Friendship and Lingerie Is Nicer.

Summary: CS Modern AU. Friends to Lovers. Emma gets some new lingerie and, intending to get approval from her friends, accidentally sends some revealing pictures to the wrong group chat. Smut ensues.

tagging @emmasbutt who has put up w/ my incessant chatter while writing this fic ♥

Rated M. 6.6k words ~ also on ao3

Emma Swan has not owned a decent set of lingerie in far too long. It's not as if she's had anyone to wear it around, has had any need for it. The thought of needing an upgrade to her sexy wardrobe isn't something her friends have needled her about in a while and therefore, hasn't crossed her mind.

She's just gotten her income tax money and seeing as she's finally in a financially stable enough place in her life to not need to spend the money on bills, she takes a slightly reluctant but much-needed trip to the nearest mall. Too many unstylishly ripped jeans and torn t-shirts have been piling up in her wardrobe and, really, her lack of anything that ranges outside the bounds of leather and simple cotton is kind of sad.

She's made a decent dent in her wallet—a couple of sheer shirts (who knew sheer was so in), a floral dress, a little black dress Ruby will whole-heartedly approve of, a nice green jacket that is decidedly not leather, and even a pencil skirt—when she passes the Victoria's Secret.

Victoria's Secret is a store she's been in a total of three times: once when she was a teenager, absent-mindedly perusing the racks while her short time friend Lily shoved underwear into her duffle bag, and twice when Ruby had dragged her along as someone to make commentary as she tried things on (modeled is a more accurate term.) The store was entirely too expensive for her taste. Not having a bust size outside the range of typical department store sizing, she found it easy to find perfectly acceptable undergarments in places decidedly cheaper. She was more of a Walmart bra shopper, maybe Target if she was feeling a little more free with her cash.

But when she walks by the window she can't help but notice a mannequin wearing some sort of one-piece swimsuit shaped item that appeared to be made of crochet lace. Lace is a staple amongst lingerie; she knows that, but crochet? Is that what passes for stylish lingerie now?

Her curiosity gets the better of her and suddenly she's standing next to the entrance display, examining the items presented. Upon closer inspection, she learns that it's scalloped lace, not crochet. Doesn't seem like much of a difference to her but what does she know? One thing's for sure; it's not what she's used to seeing.

She's about to leave, her inquiring mind satisfied, when she see's the 7 for $27 underwear sign.

"Huh," she huffs aloud. 7 for $27 (after opening her phone's calculator app) averages out to about 4 dollars a piece. Not too bad. She's got all this money burning a hole in her pocket, so maybe she could splurge a little on some fancy underwear. You only live once.

After she's picked out the underwear she likes best and, as kindly as possible, waved off two different workers, she heads deeper into the store to find the cashiers.

Shopping is normally so simple for Emma Swan—get in, find something comfortable, avoid overly expensive items, and get out. But today has not been a regular shopping day and, as luck would have it, her interest is once again piqued by a mannequin.

This time the outfit is something she's more familiar with, a bustier set. A very pretty bustier set. It's entirely red with the exception of the tan cups. Lace covers a majority of the cups, breaking off into a small keyhole directly below the split of the breast, and narrowing into a wide strip down the front and lined with boning, leaving the siding as simple mesh. It's got attachable garters following the path of the boning and a matching tan and lace, v-string panty. It's more elaborate than anything she's ever owned and she decides, on the spot, she wants it.

She finds the corresponding color in her size and also a simple black, satin and lace, babydoll slip that looks comfortable enough to actually want to sleep in, and heads for the fitting room. One of the attendants from before lets her in and she settles her bags on the chair, rests the garments on top of them and begins undressing.

The babydoll goes on first. It's easy to slip into and less daunting than the other option. Immediately, she falls in love with the feel of it against her skin and now she understands why people spend money here. Luxury is heavenly.

She switches out the definite new addition to her underwear drawer for the bustier. Thankfully, it zips down the side and doesn't have any complicated hooks on the back. Because, no matter how good it looks on her, she's not spending money on something that will make her twist and sweat getting in and out of.

Once the outfit is yanked around a little and settled into place, she looks in the mirror.

Damn, she looks good.

She pulls her phone out of her jacket and snaps a couple pictures in the mirror, one from the front and one from the back. The lighting is kind of shitty but it does the job and she still looks pretty damn good so she opens up the group chat between Mary Margaret, Ruby, Elsa, Belle and herself and sends the pics with the text i walked into the hell store and actually found multiple things i really like and knew you guys would need photographic proof so here.

She leaves the store, having spent over $100 dollars and feeling both happy and slightly nauseous.

Ruby: i'm actually drooling you look so hot!!!!

Unsurprisingly, Ruby, her phone surgically attached to her hand, is the first to respond and with fire emojis.

Mary Margaret: Emma, you look lovely! I see those bags in the background. I'm glad you're treating yourself, you deserve it!

She loves her friends so much and she's feeling great as she leaves the mall, enough new clothes to last her a while and an Auntie Anne's cinnamon pretzel sitting comfortably in her stomach. That great feeling lasts all the way to her car until she sits down and checks her phone a final time before driving back to her apartment.

Elsa: You look stunning, Emma. But did you mean to send those photos in this chat?

She's slightly confused. Does Elsa find it weird that she would share those pictures with her friends? It can't be. That kind of photo swapping isn't unusual between them. Hell, they've had enough photos sent by Ruby, asking "How do I look?" to rival Kim K's selfie book. Maybe it's because Emma is typically more reserved?

She's about to respond when she notices a name she hadn't intended in the group's contact box. Her stomach plummets at the sight of her brother's name. Shit. She chose the wrong chat.

Emma: fuck fuck fuck.

mm are you with david??

fuck. stop him from seeing those!!

please

Mary Margaret: Breathe, Emma. He's in the shower. I deleted the whole exchange before he saw it.

She lets out a deep breath and leans back in her seat. Thank god. But before she's collected herself enough to start the car and drive off, her phone beeps with another notification.

Killian: What about me, love? Was someone supposed to stop me from seeing those photos? Or was I one of your intended recipients? ;)

She pulls up his phone number to call him and to correct him that no they were not intended for him and to threaten bodily harm if he ever breathes a word of this to her brother. "As you wish, Swan." he concedes smarmily.

Mary Margaret: I deleted that message as well.

—

"Soo, Swan," he drawls, lips wrapping around the letters of her name like a caress. If the way he cocks his head to the side and obscenely runs his tongue over his bottom lip didn't tip her off that salacious things are to follow, his fingers fiddling with his bottle, practically indecent, would be evidence enough.

It's been two days since the text message fiasco and they have just settled onto her couch, pizza and beer spread out in front of them, for their weekly Sunday movie night.

"Yes, Jones?"

"Have you put those naughty little lace bits to use yet?" he inquires running his eyes over her seated form as if he's suddenly developed Clark Kent level abilities of x-ray vision.

She tilts her head back on a deep breath. "Are you asking me if I've fucked anyone recently?" she challenges staring at the ceiling.

"Your words love, not mine." Her head is still facing upwards but she can feel the smirk on his lips. "You could have simply worn them under your daily clothes. It's to my understanding, that is something that gives women a little confidence boost, adds a little excitement to their day." He pauses and she hopes maybe he's finished but when she looks at him, his eyes have gone a little hazy. "Are you wearing them right now?"

She smacks him in the arm, hard.

"Are you?" he exclaims, eyes now wide and eyebrows in his hairline.

"No, you idiot," she huffs, smacking him again but gentler.

"It's just a question. No need to get violent," he complains and she's tempted to give him one last slap for good measure. Instead, she asks "Why are you so concerned with my underwear?"

He opens his mouth and she slaps her hand over it. "Choose your words carefully, Killian," she growls.

When she pulls back her hand, he licks his lips, less lecherous than before and more of a simple moistening of his lips but still entirely to lascivious for her liking.

"I just want to know if you've gotten to enjoy those lovely garments. They seemed to be working very well for you in those photos and I'd hate for them to sit forever at the bottom of your messy drawer, going to waste," he elaborates as if she's the silly one for not understanding his particular fascination with her new lingerie set.

Which she kind of is. This is Killian Jones she's speaking to, the king of all things sexual in nature and it doesn't get much more sexual than a picture of her in skimpy underwear. She should have known he wouldn't have let this go easily. To be a little lewd herself, he's like a dog with a bone when it comes to humiliating situations.

"But Ruby has purposefully sent naughty pictures to the group before and you never gave it much more than one of your simple flirtatious one-liners." He looks as if he's about to argue so she hurries to continue. "No, look, I know what happened. This was different because it was an accident. Am I supposed to feel humiliated? Is that what this is? You trying to embarrass me? Because I'm not. Embarrassed that is. Yes, if it were you that had accidentally sent a dick pic in the group chat, I wouldn't have been so kind myself. But it really wasn't that indecent and I refuse to let you demean me for it."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, love." She actually sees red. "Ok very poor choice of words. I just want to say I'm not trying to be malicious," he placates, running the back of his ringed fingers up and down her bare arm. "I'm just having a little fun. Like you said, if it were me you would be doing the same thing. If it were anyone else, you would give them a little hell. Maybe in different ways but still tease them none the less. That's how we are, you and I especially. If it's honestly bothering you, I'll let it go and we won't speak of it again."

"I guess it's not too bad," she concedes settling back on the couch and pulling a blanket—a fuzzy thing with the image of a large ship on it—over her. "But it's my night to pick the movie so you can sit back and shut up or if you're still preoccupied with thoughts of women's underwear, you can go home and watch some damn porn."

"Only your underwear love," he quips but then relaxes back himself and mimes a zipping motion over his mouth.

She puts her feet in his lap. "If you're really feeling apologetic, you'll give me a foot massage."

He makes no comment but immediately gets to work. She might have no knowledge on the levels of accuracy of his claims to being godlike in the bedroom but one thing is for sure. The man is wonderful with his hands.

—

True to his word, Killian doesn't bring up the photos again. It's been two weeks of nothing but a little bit of flirtatious teasing from Ruby (which, for some reason that Emma does not want to dwell on, doesn't bother her quite like Killian's did. Possibly because she knows Ruby has here sights set on Belle and therefore it feels harmless.) and a couple of inquiries from David. "You really don't want to know, sweetie," Mary Margaret would tell him.

Her and Killian have two more movie nights, both blissfully devoid of any talk of her underwear. one with his ridiculous cookies—"Biscuits, Swan."—Hobnob's and one with her popcorn and melty Milk Duds.

("I worry for your teeth, love. Truly. How much money do you spend at the dentist?" He complained as he pulled a chocolate covered finger out of the bowl.

"If you don't shut up and lick that finger clean, I will. Don't think I'm letting that melted chocolatey goodness go to waste because you're a prissy little Brit."

"Don't tempt me, love," he responded and then put his finger in his mouth, obviously running his tongue over it and then pulling it out slowly.)

He doesn't bring it up when he visits her for lunch at work either. Which is lucky for him because if he'd mentioned anything about her lingerie in front of her boss, Regina, she'd have flipped him on his ass so fast she'd have knocked the British right out of him.

She thinks the incident may be finally put behind them.

Emma, Killian, and the rest of their friends are out at their favorite bar, The Rabbit Hole. The group hasn't been able to get out as often as they'd like lately. With Mary Margaret and David settling into married life, Killian starting his job at a new firm, Elsa preparing for her sister’s wedding, and Ruby, with her Granny getting older, taking on more responsibility at the diner, it's been nearly impossible to get everyone in the same place, at the same time.

They're out tonight, though. She's danced with the group for a couple of songs, Elsa once, Killian twice, and Ruby four times. Normally, she limits herself to about five dances total but she's been really keyed up lately and dancing is a wonderful outlet.

She's sitting at the bar nursing a beer, trying to lower her heart rate, and watching her brother and his wife dance, when she feels someone come up behind her, tucking their arm around her waist.

She gets ready to tell the person off but relaxes at the familiar Killian scent and feel of scruff as he tucks his chin into the space where her neck and shoulder meets.

"Cute, aren't they?" she sighs. He simply nods, the coarse hair along his jaw tickling her shoulder. "It's ridiculous how perfect they are."

They sit in silence for a moment watching the stupidly happy couple.

Suddenly he removes his chin from her shoulder to immediately replace it with his mouth, his teeth scraping lightly against her skin. Her shirt has slid to the side slightly—likely due to the motion of his weird nodding/nuzzling—exposing her bra strap and he's taken it between his teeth.

She's lightly buzzed, her head fuzzy and her body pleasantly warm. And it's an oddly enjoyable sensation, the gentle slide of his lips against her skin as he lightly grinds the strap between his incisors. She leans back slightly and tilts her head to the side to offer him more room, feeling heady at the contrast of his soft mouth and rough stubble.

But then he gets bolder with his movements, digging in a little harder, his slick teeth slipping along her skin and it's like a bucket of ice has splashed over her. They're in public, with their friends, and he has his mouth on her shoulder.

She rips herself away and the snap of her bra against her skins further pulls her from her haze. He is decidedly drunker than her. His eyes are glossed over and he's got a slight dopey grin on his lips.

"Killian," she says his name firmly.

"Swan," he acknowledges with a hoarse voice and thankfully that's all he says because his accent gets thicker when he drinks and she really doesn't need that right now.

"Look around the room," she demands. His eyes wander about briefly and return to her face. "What do you see?"

He shrugs.

"Do you want to know what I see?"

She's answered with another shrug.

"I see women, a lot of them your type. Go flirt with one of them and let me drink my beer in peace."

His eyes roam over her face and he must find something convincing enough in her expression because he nods and heads in the direction of a leggy brunette on the dance floor.

She's contemplates sticking around, heading to the booth that Elsa and Anna are chatting in, but the sight of Killian, his trademark flirty grin in place, with his hand on the girl's shoulder causes her stomach to turn and she suddenly doesn't feel like being anywhere but home.

She finds her brother and tells him she's heading out. He doesn't ask questions, just gives her a kiss on the cheek and tells her to drive safe and text him when she gets home.

She drives to her apartment in a haze and texts him the minute she walks through the door.

Emma: home sweet home, no danger in sight

David: Alright, get some rest. Sleep well.

She kicks off her shoes and stomps to her bathroom. In the mirror, she sees a fright, tangled hair, smeared eyeliner, and only a cracked outline of what used to be her lipstick. She strips down to her underwear, does a quick face wash, aggressively brushes her teeth, and then throws on a t-shirt and climbs into bed.

She tries to fall asleep, hoping the alcohol will be enough to knock her out. It is eventually but not before her mind runs through a hundred different thoughts. Why did he do that? Did I do something to encourage it? Why did I let him? Why did I like it so much? And the one that really haunts her, Why did I feel so shitty seeing him with that girl?

—

The next day, Mary Margaret's monthly girl’s brunch, finds Emma and her friends sitting around a table, various forms of food on plates but all with a mimosa on the side.

Emma smirks as Ruby rolls her head forward, groaning. Cleary, her bubbly orange alcohol serves more as the hair of the dog than a simple morning drink.

"So, Emma," Mary Margaret says, snapping the grin of Emma's face. "What made you leave so fast last night?"

She shifts down uncomfortably in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't know. I had a headache and didn't feel like being out."

"Mmmm."

"Are you feeling better this morning?" Elsa asks, seemingly oblivious to her lie.

"Yeah, I..." Everyone senses something in the way her words trail off, even Ruby's pounding head snaps to attention.

"Did something happen?" Ruby demands, leaning forward, arms on the table.

"If Granny were here, she'd scold you right now." Emma tries to distract her.

"Nuh-uh," Ruby says shaking her head. "You're not changing the subject."

"Well," she sighs and tries to collect her thoughts into words that won't cause Ruby to knock anything off the table. "Killian did something kind of weird last night."

"Weird how?" Belle inquires.

"Yeah, you're gonna have to be a little more descriptive here," Elsa says evenly. "Like regular weird or weird for Killian?"

"Uhmm. I'd say this is weird, even for Killian. Well, see actually, I don't know. He's always flirty so maybe not too weird. But he's never crossed the line into something so overtly... sexual with me before but maybe it wasn't that sexual. He was pretty drunk. I don't know—" Ruby cuts her off with a hand over her mouth.

"What did he do?" she asks sharply and her red lip pulls up into a slight snarl.

"Hebitmybra," she rushes out, partly to stop Ruby from thinking he did anything that would require her to rips off his junk and partly to get it over with.

"He what?" Mary Margaret gasps.

"He came up behind me while I was sitting at the bar and put his chin on my shoulder and we watched you and David dance for a little bit, or at least I was watching you guys. And next thing I knew he had his mouth to my shoulder and he was chewing on my bra!"

She looks around the table and everyone is wearing matching faces of shock.

"Well, what did you do?" Mary Margaret, the most level-headed of the group, finally asks.

"I may have let him do it for a few seconds?" She shrugs and grins weakly. "I had a little bit to drink myself and at first I didn't really think of who it was, it just felt nice. But then he got a little more... aggressive and I kind of snapped out of it and told him to go bother someone else. So he did and he left with some girl in a short skirt."

"No, he didn't," Mary Margaret corrects her.

"Fine, he found someone in tight pants. I don't know. He was talking to some brunette when I left."

"Actually, he left with a guy and a girl."

"Oh," she breathes out. That's a little out of the ordinary for him but the man is adventurous.

"Me and David. He came up to us a little after you left, looking too drunk to do anything but sit in David's truck and have us drive him home."

"Oh," she says again, uselessly.

"Look, I don't know what exactly prompted his actions although I'm sure the... pictures from a couple weeks ago might have something to do with it," Belle says softly. "But what I do know is the reasoning behind what he did. Something that you haven't been ready to hear for a long time now but I think you might finally be ready."

Emma shakes her head slightly not knowing what's to follow but sure that she doesn't want to hear. Belle is probably the closest person to Killian after herself and David. If there's anything he's not letting on with her, it's probably knowledge Belle has.

"No, listen to me," Belle demands firmly. "That man is in love with you. I know it, he knows it, everyone at this table knows it. The only person that doesn't know it is you. And possibly David but that's undecided. It's not just some crush. We all know Killian doesn't do crushes. He does no strings attached or deeply in love. There’s no halving things with him. And you Emma Swan, you are the person he has been in love with for years now. He might not have been aware of it from the very beginning but it's always been there."

Walking out is probably her best option. She doesn't feel like sitting at this table anymore and really, it's not like it would make things any worse.

"I'm not telling you this to frighten you," her friend soothes. "It's time you know. I shouldn't be telling you at all but this has gone on long enough. And I'm pretty sure you two would continue on in this weird, falsely platonic, overly affectionate friendship for the rest of your damn lives. Which could be nice. Friendship is nice. But wouldn't things be nicer for the two of you if there was more?"

Would they?

Thankfully everyone lets the topic drop and they continue their meal with more menial topics of conversation until Elsa gets a text from her sister about some sort of stationary emergency.

The days continue on like any other. Killian comes over twice. One night they watch movies and another to he cooks her dinner because she's been overly exhausted from chasing down her latest skip and when she'd let it slip that she hadn't been eating properly, he'd immediately set out to rectify that. They talk over the phones and text sporadically.

There is no mention of what happened at the bar.

She assumes he doesn't remember it and hopes they can continue on like nothings happened. If he's not going to bring it up, why should she?

Except she can't get what Belle said out of her head.

—

This might not be the brightest idea, but it's the first Emma came up with and she's not focusing on finding one any longer, lest she lose her courage to do something.

It will work out in one of a few different ways. Either he'll run out of her apartment and never speak to her again (highly unlikely but very horrifying,) he'll run out of her apartment and take a week to speak to her again (more likely,) he'll ask her what she's doing and she'll put some clothes on and they'll awkwardly watch a movie (also likely,) or they'll end up fucking (hopefully.)

It's Sunday, Killian's turn to pick a movie, and she's standing at her bathroom counter, curling her hair. Because Killian likes it extra curly. She's wearing her new bustier set, stockings, and nothing else.

She debated putting on lipstick, but if things go positively, it could cause a distracting mess. And if things go negatively, the thought of having to wipe that lipstick off and crawl into bed alone makes her want to call the whole thing off.

Deciding on a position is almost harder than coming up with the idea if the first place. Should she answer the door, stand there with a hand on her cocked hip? Recline seductively on her bed and wait for him to find her?

She decides to sit in her armchair, legs crossed and hands resting on the arms. It's not in the direct line of sight when walking through her door but it won't take long to be spotted.

She sits there for what feels like hours but is probably only a couple minutes. If Killian Jones is one thing besides sarcastic and salacious, he's prompt.

When she hears the knock on the door—Honestly, the man has had a key to her apartment for over a year now and still knocks every time he uses it.—she's tempted to bolt into her bedroom, lock the door and not come out until she's appropriately covered. But she remains and tries to keep her breathing as steady as possible.

"Liam's just sent this wine. He says we've got to try it," he beings as he walks into her apartment, setting down his keys, cookies and what looks to be a tray of cheese on top of her kitchen counter. "I stopped at the deli along the way and got some—"

He drops the wine.

He drops the wine and he stands next to her couch, mouth gaping. He stands there and he stares, and he continues to stare and he doesn't bother to pick up the wine, which thankfully hadn't broken but maybe if it had it would have knocked enough sense into him to pick it up. But the wine didn't break, so he stands and he stares.

After what feels like eons, he closes his mouth, only to open and close it a couple more times and finally croak out "What are you doing, Swan?"

"I'm putting these naughty little lace bits to use," she answers lowly with a hint of a smirk.

He walks slowly and drops to his knees before her. For a moment he just sits there, staring up at her, reading her. She stares back. She feels one of his hands come to rest of her ankle, his thumb tickling the delicate skin beneath the bone.

He pulls back suddenly, sliding his palms along his jeans.

With one hand he pulls her crossed leg off the other and then uses both hands, fingers tucking behind her calves just under her knees, to deliberately split them apart, stopping when he's created a V large enough to fit his torso between.

Her head falls back against the chair with a thump as he runs his fingers with a feather light touch up the inside of her thigh, stopping just short of her center. He pulls his hand back towards him only to immediately run it, along with his other on her other thigh, back up. With each pass, the pressure of his fingers deepens until he stops just at the top of her stalkings and begins to knead his thumbs into her skin, the feeling shooting straight up to her pelvis and causing her toes twitch.

Delicately, he unlatches one of the stockings from its garter, drags the material agonizingly slow, down her thigh, over her knee, down her calf, until it slips off her foot. He gives said foot a light massage then lifts it up towards his face and presses a kiss to the pad of her toe. He repeats the same torturous set of movements along the other leg.

Her breaths are shaky by the time he's finished, her feet back on either side of him.

He sits back and considers her for a moment before grabbing her hips and dragging her until her ass is resting just near the edge of the seat. She's about to say something, ask him where this is going when he leans forward and places his face into the crotch of her panties.

She gasps and involuntarily jerks her knee at the feel of his nose, nuzzling into her. He sits there and she can feel the movements of his breath, hot and heavy, and she feels on the verge of combustion. She digs her nails into the fabric of the chair. Can someone explode from this?

Just as she feels a scream crawling up her throat, he presses a gentle kiss right at her center then stands. His mouth slams onto hers. He licks along the seam of her lips, wasting no time slipping his tongue in her mouth. One of his hands lands over hers on the chair and the other tangles straight into her hair, cupping the back of her skull. His lips are soft and slick and they feel so similar, but also so different than what they felt like against her shoulder.

She's overwhelmed by the sensations, lips, tongue, hands, the smell and feel of him in new ways. It's almost too much to take in at once and her mind is being pulled in a million different directions, chasing one pleasurable feeling after another.

Feeling the need to do something, she moves the hand not held under Killian's and puts it into his hair. God damn, it's so soft. Her nails scratch lightly along his scalp and he groans.

His hand shifts, his thumb brushing up against the back of her ear and he begins to run it over her earlobe. But rubbing isn't enough for him and she gasps for air as he moves his mouth to it, lips latching on and tongue running back and forth.

After that, his mouth won't settle in one place. He starts sucking down her neck, alternating between light and welt-inducing pressure. He scrapes his teeth at the meeting point of her neck and shoulder and she feels like she'll melt into the chair. When his lips meet the strap of her bustier, his teeth attach just like they did at the bar, except this time she doesn't pull away, and he's the one to snap the strap against her skin. Which causes her to gasp loudly and sends a wave of heat through her core, so strong it's almost unbearable.

"Killian," she sighs and he growls at the sound of his name, the first word spoken since he laid eyes on her in this outfit. "Bedroom."

He snaps her legs together and scoops her up, one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, carrying her bridal style into her room. When he reaches the bed, he tosses her unceremoniously onto it.

She plants her feet and the edge of the mattress and props herself up on her elbows, grinning cheekily up at him.

"As ravishing as you may look in this, love. And truly you're a sight to behold," he murmurs, running his hands up and down her bare calves, eyes roaming over her. "I think this experience will be more pleasurable for the both of us if we get you out of it."

"You first buddy. I'm not the one still wearing a leather jacket here," she counters but after he begins tugging off his clothes she moves her hand to the zipper along her side and drags it down.

Once he's got not a stitch on—his high-intensity training abs and God-given length on full display—and she's divested herself of her top and thong, he scrambles up beside her. She crawls onto him and settles herself into his lap, hands resting on his shoulders. He drops his face forward, forehead landing between her breasts, and rests there, breathing deeply.

After a few moments she tries to drag him back by his hair but he struggles against her.

"Give a man a moment, Swan," he grumbles, nestling his head against her chest.

"Killian," she wines and begins to rock her hips slowly.

"My God, woman."

But it prompts movement, his face turning to the side and his mouth latching onto one of her breasts with a light kiss. His hands go to her hips, dragging her back and forth, sliding over his length. She raises her arms and clutches at the back of his head and shoulders, holding him into place, encouraging him to deepen the pressure. And he does. His kiss turns hard, sucking at her with a sharp, wonderful pain only lessening, at the sound of her cry, to flick his tongue up and down.

He pulls his head back to move to the other and she knows she won’t be able to take it, her wetness getting out of hand, surprising her that he hasn't just slipped inside her yet. He's making these utterly delighted sounds that she's not sure she'll ever get out of her head.

So she reaches down to grab him and begins to guide him inside but he startles her by flipping her over.

"Condom?"

She shakes her head. "I’ve got that thing in my arm so I'm good if you are."

He pushes himself in, his face the oddest contradiction, a picture of pure joy and anguish as he buries himself in her, nearly bottoming out. He blinks slowly at her, eyes filled with silent wonderment. She's mesmerized by the sight.

"Fuck."

She feels overwhelmed. It's not painful but he's fairly large and it has been a while, so she's feeling more pressure than usual.

"You could say that again," he sighs scraping his teeth along her neck.

"Fuck."

She cups the back of his neck and pulls him down for a soft kiss.

"Move," she mumbled against his lips.

He begins pushing in and out, slowly and first. But once she gets used to the feeling, she starts meeting him thrust for thrust and he begins to take her harder, faster. His kiss roughens, turning into little more than a clashing of lips and tongue and teeth.

It doesn't take long for the steady back and forth to push her higher and higher, already so worked up. Once he moves his fingers down, pressing into tiny circles over her clit, she's nearly at the edge. Her eyes clench shut as she tries to puts all her focus into the feeling flowing through her.

"Emma, love," he grunts. "Open your eyes."

She shakes her head.

"Please."

The sound of his voice, so utterly wrecked, begging her is incentive enough, so she opens them. She's met with his stupidly blue gaze. He smiles down at her and it's almost too much, the pleasure mounting and it sends her tumbling over the edge, gasping and sobbing his name, a flash of heat overtaking her body.

She lays there, practically lifeless, having lost all semblance of space and time but gently comes to when she hears him gasp her name as he come's himself. His sweaty forehead falls into her collarbone first, followed by the rest of his body over hers, and they lay there panting, utterly blissed out.

"I'm gonna need at least three business days to recover from that," she sighs happily into his messy hair, sloppily patting the back of his head.

"Glad I could be of service."

He rolls off of her but tugs her along with him, switching their positions so that she's the one with her face tucked into his neck, legs sprawled over his.

"Mmm."

"Seriously. Anytime you want me like that, I'll be happy to help."

After a few minutes of drowsy cuddling, he speaks again. "What prompted this?"

"I guess you could say it started with the pictures but do you honestly not remember that night at the bar?" she asks tracing her fingers up and down his chest, tangling through his hair.

"Night at the b— Oh,"

"All coming back to you now?"

"Honestly, I've had no recollection until you brought it up just now," he insists. "I think I've blocked it out."

"Yeah, well I went out to brunch the next day and I guess I was kind of out of sorts and you know how well Mary Margaret handles lies. They kind of dragged what happened out of me and then said some things that really got me thinking and then I had to figure out what I wanted to do and here we are. Naked and sweaty."

He laughs uproariously, pulling her tighter against him.

"Hey!" She smacks his arm.

"I'm sorry, love, truly. But you go out to eat with the girls and they tell you I'm in love with you, which sends your mind spiraling, so of course, your first plan of action is to seduce me with lingerie."

"I didn't say they said anything about you being in love with me," she grumbles against his shoulder.

"It doesn't take a genius to read between the lines of that one... It's true, you know that right? I love you." "Well, I wasn't entirely sure until now," she confesses and then softly says "I love you, too."

He pulls her face up to his for a long, lingering kiss.

"Gods, I love you," he says into her mouth and then trails a few smaller kisses along her jaw.

"If you want to hear something that will make you love me even more, I also bought a little something else when I was at Victoria's Secret," she says smirking up at him. His eyebrows quirk up and she shakes her head. "But it'll have to be for another time."

"Can't wait, love."

She decides that Belle was right. Friendship is nice but more is nicer, specifically, friendship and lingerie is nicer.

[lykanthropa]

Support Class

Chapter 7: Friedrich’s power & Hans’ powerlessness

The Mercs are sitting on the chairs in front of the infirmary and are waiting to be called by Medic. Only Soldier is standing at attention as is right and proper for a soldier. Right now Scout is with Friedrich. Behind the door is nothing to be heard. Their old Medic was always very talkative when he had patients in his infirmary. But this man does not appear to have any interest in talking to them at all. And moreover he had forced them to use the ticket machine. Since they had moved into this base, it always hung there without being heeded. Medic had always called their names. But this Medic wants numbers...

“Ow!” Scout steps out into the hallway. He holds his right upper arm. “Ouch… This shabby quack! Our Medic had no license, but his syringes didn't hurt so much!” The look of the mercenaries are rest behind Scout. The boy turns around and sees Friedrich standing in front of him, looking down at him with a cloudy expression. Frightened, the runner jumps backwards and makes a high-pitched scream. “Number 2!” Heavy stands up and follows Friedrich through the door into the infirmary. No one says anything until the double door is closed. “God, this guy always looks like he got shit under his nose…” “Let it be good, Scout. We will get used to it.” “You say that every time, Spy!” “I don't know if you didn't realize it, but we ‘ave no choice. The Administrator ‘as decided so. We cannot do anything about that.” “Pff… Everything's shitty here.” “………”

“Sit down” orders Friedrich with harsh voice. The native Russian ignores this and sits down on the chair provided for him, placing his right arm on the holder at the side. The new Medic rolls with a stool to him, in his hand a syringe. “Doktor has already given us vaccination.” “I only take a blood test. Hans has not given me any documentation.” “Medic had nothing to note down. He knew us.” Friedrich looks at Heavy with a stern look. “That does not matter at all. A good doctor has to note down everything. But I'm not surprised at that. I have to admit that he always knew what he was doing and that he was very clever. But he often behaved unprofessional.” “Medic was best Doktor.” “I am your Medic now. Got that? And now hold still.” Friedrich leads the needle into Heavy's arm after cleaning the place with disinfectant. Heavy bites the teeth firmly together. “Why is syringe so painful from doctor with medical license?” “This is probably because you are too sensitive. Unsurprisingly. This Medigun does most of the work. You are simply no longer used to being supplied with medical instruments.” The dark red blood flows into the syringe. Heavy does not feel well. He just doesn't trust the new Medic. When Friedrich was finished, he stick a plaster over the slightly bleeding wound. “You can go now.” Heavy gets up, but he hesitates. “Anything else?” “Does Heavy get a lollipop?” “Excuse me?” “Medic always gave us one when the syringes hurt.” It seems to him like an eternity until Friedrich finally answers. “You're an adult man. You do not need a lollipop, but a diet, which I had already prescribed. And so that you or the others never ever ask me again...” Friedrich goes to the desk where the glass with the lollipops stands, takes it and drops it demonstratively in the trash can. Heavy is be dumbfounded and the physical pain is replaced by psychical pain. Medic has not gone so long yet, but Heavy misses him bitterly. He feels as he is going to be cry. But he clenches the big hands into fists, lifts his head, turns around and goes without saying another word. “Damn Russians…”

As he steps out into the hall, Heavy passes the Mercs without looking at them. “What’s the matter, son?” Engineer asks honestly concerned, but Heavy ignores him and soon he has disappeared behind the corner. Friedrich comes through the door to ask for the number 3. Soldier stands next him on the wall, his little finger in his nose. When the strict doctor sees that, he outraged. “What the hell…?! Finger out of the nose!” Soldier twitches and pulls the finger out immediately. But Friedrich doesn’t be content with it. “What is all this about? And you call yourself a soldier? Shame on you! When I came here, I thought I was working with adult people! Professionals.” “Hey!” Scout interferes. “Leave him alone!” “Shut up, you little twerp! Learn to have respect for older people! If you can not, I see black for you. And now on! Number 3!” Demo stands up from his place. You can see that he wants to be anything but with this doctor alone in a room.

Heavy sits on the bed in his room and stares at the floor. There is a knock on the room door. Scout sticks his head in. “Hey, big guy. May I come in?” “Da…” The boy sits down on the bed, next to Heavy. “Whatever he did, do not take that too much to heart. I mean, you're not like that.” “Because Medic never treated me like that.” “Yeah… I've always thought he's an old geezer. But actually he was pretty cool.” “Leetle Scout miss Doctor too?” Heavy looks into his eyes. Sure Scout misses him, but he does not want to admit it. “Yeah… Maybe… A little bit. Never mind.” Heavys Blick wird skeptisch. Scout geht nicht darauf ein, sondern sagt stattdessen: „Hey, I was thinking about sneaking into the infirmary and looking for something to help get rid of this quack.” “Looking for what?” “I don’t know… Or we plant something on him. Something that makes him intolerable for the team and the Administrator has to laid him off!” “What to plant?” “I don’t know that, either… But I have the fear that he may never leave the infirmary anyway.” “Scout should not do it.” “Why? You also want our old Medic to come back!” “Yes, but this is not right. We should do what Spy says.” “What? To tolerate it? This is an asshole! Even if we all try to build a better relationship with him, he will always treat us like dirt. And don't forget that he hates Russians. He hates you, Heavy. Do you really think it's going better when you're friendly to him?” “………” “Okay, do what you want. But I'll look around in the infirmary.” Scout leaves the room. Heavy does not try to stop him. The boy does what he wants anyway. But if he is honest, the gentle Russian hopes that he might find something or come up with something to get rid of the new Medic and bring back the old one. But he’s also worried at the thought when Scout is discovered by him. Would he do any harm to him? Heavy has to be distract himself now. So he will clean Sasha. He takes out the rag he always uses for it, takes his minigun out of its bed and carries it carefully over to his. Just as he wants to start, he notices a small feather ball in the barrel. “What is bird doing in Sasha?” The bird moves, and a moment later it looks out of the barrel. It's the robin that follows Heavy everywhere, ever since he had found it and brought it to Medic, so that he can heal it. It makes a sad impression. “Is bird sad? Heavy is sad, too.” As if the robin could understand him, it flies on his shoulder and snuggles to him. As if it wants to give him comfort.

  Team Fortress 2

  Sniper stops his van. They have reached the train station. “Well, here we are.” “The ride was much too short…” “We drove an hour and a half, mate.” Sniper tries to give Medic an encouraging smile, but it looks much too sad despite all this. The two are silent for a minute. Neither of them wants to get out, but Hans finally makes an arrangement to leave the van. Sniper could get in trouble with Friedrich if he needs too long with his return to the base. “You don't have to help me with my baggage. It's better to go back now.” “Of course I will help you! And I'll stay so long until your train is gone on the horizon.” “...okay.” Hans smiles. Sniper opens the back door of his van. “I'm will unload everything. Go get your ticket.” “Alright. See you in a bit.” With Archimedes' cage, Hans climbs the few stair steps up to the wooden train station. It's abandoned. No wonder. They are here in the middle of a desert. He enters the small building, where an old woman sits behind the ticket counter and reads a book. She is wearing a horn-goggle and her gray hair is tied to a strict braid. She doesn't notice Hans. At least he believes this until she suddenly address to him. “Good-day, young man.” Her voice sounds firm and tough. “Oh! H-hello.” “It feels like an eternity since I saw the last passengers here on my station.” She looks at Hans over the edge of her glasses. “Don't we know each other?” “Five years ago I came here by train.” “Yes I remember. All these years you have lived in this lifeless desert. Allow me to ask why.” “Well ... I like living alone for myself.” “I see. I understand that just too well. I chose this post here, because people rarely go by here. It's a true blessing.” “You're don't be afraid?” “No, not at all. Of what? That I might be attacked? That my heart makes limp and my corpse is found only months later? Or I might be afraid of loneliness? No, no I'm not afraid of anything.” “Ha. That's probably true. Otherwise you would not be here.” “Besides, the good old Barney always checks after me when he comes by with the train here. Usually, this station is intended for freight trains, but they don't come through here anymore. Therefore, all other trains don't stop here. But the good old Barney stops for me.” “Good to know that you have someone who thinks of you. But if there is no regular train, you probably don’t sell tickets?” “This is true. Especially at my age. In fact, I have not sold tickets for a long time, but the good old Barney certainly has some. I will ask him to take you with. You want to go to the city?” “Too kind. Yes, I want to the city.” “Forgive me my curiosity, young man, but why do you want to get out of solitude? Do you need a veterinarian for that pretty little dove?” The old woman smiles at the dove in its cage. “Oh! No no. Archimedes is in a good health. It's just ... I need ... variety. Just to go briefly among people, so I remember why I'm actually away from them.” “You seem so sad, young man.” “I…” “Medic!” Sniper comes in. “There you are. You took so long, so I have already brought all your baggage up.” “Oh, another young man. We know each other, too?” “Oh. G’day, milady.” Mundy takes his hat off his head and bows slightly. “Yes I believe that too. Five years ago I came for my friend here. And I have to depose him now. It's a pity to let go such a great Medic.” “So you are a doctor? And then you leave your friend? A medic is always to be used. Especially in a place where there are no hospitals.” “That’s alright. He has a new medic.” Hans and Mundy look at each other and try to hide their feelings in front of the old woman. “Oh! The train is coming~” Mundy and Hans listen attentively, but can hear nothing. The old woman steps out behind the counter and goes outside. The two follow her. No train in sight. Mundy had actually carried Hans's baggage along with the large birdcage on the train station. “I've put a blanket over the bird's cage so your doves get a little rest.” “Thank you, my friend.” “Don't mention it, mate.” “And please don't call me Medic. I am no longer your doctor.” “For us, you will always be.” “We will never meet again.” “We will visit you.” ““It's better if you don't. And actually...” Hans brings Scouts labelled baseball from his jacket pocket. “... actually I shouldn't have accepted that.” “So you want to forget us?” “Even if I wanted, I could not forget you. But I cannot handle this kind of emotion very well.” Sniper puts both hands on his shoulders. “It's okay. Keep the ball and let us come to see you. It will not be the same as before, but you are still a part of the team, the family. And who knows? Perhaps the good Friedrich will soon quit the service?” “Are you planning something? Usually I am always for something like that. But you should leave it. Friedrich is irrepressibly. And even if, for whatever reason, he would quit his job, that doesn't mean that I can work as your Medic again. And before you have to get along without a Medic, you should learn to get along with him.” “………”

Smoke can be seen in the distance. The train is to be advancing. “Wow, the old lady has an excellent hearing.” The two look at her. She had slightly bent down to the large birdcage and gave a whistle-like sound to draw the attention of the doves, which also worked. The birds jump to her at the bars. “Sweet, sweet little doves.” When the train stops in front of them, the old woman turns to the two of them. “You're lucky that old Barney is passing here today, young man. Sometimes there is no train going through here for weeks.” Hans smiles at her. It's not like I've had a choice. “That would have been okay. Then I would have driven him to the city with the van.” “Sniper…” “Dorothea!” The train driver is approaching the three. He is as old as the woman but is still light on his feet. “Barney, nice to see you.” The two old folks hug each other. Both reach Mundy and Hans to the chest. “Somehow cute…” Hans answers with a sigh. “How are you, Doro?” “I'm fine. And you? We haven't seen each other for two weeks.” “I feel great. And as I see, you have two passengers for me.” “Oh eh… just me.” “Please give the boy a ticket.” “Of course.” Barney reaches into the pocket of his checkered trousers and takes out a ticket. He hands it Hans. “Here you go.” “Thank you.” “When did I drop or take someone from here the last time?” “Five years ago, my dear.” “Time flies.” “I'll help you with the store your baggage away, Med- eh… Hans.” “Thanks… really.” “Tell me when you're done.” Barney turns back to the woman. They both look like an old married couple. Sniper helps Hans to bring the cage and baggage into the train. The train compartment is quite lonely and they find an empty cabin. “Perfect. Thanks for your help.” “Self-evidently, Doc.” Hans gives Mundy a warning look, but he just shrugs innocently. “Take care of yourself. And good luck in the city.” “It will be unfamiliar, but I'll manage it.” “Sure thing. If the townspeople don't recognize your genius, it's their own fault.” “Hahaha… yes…” Suddenly Sniper hugs him; and Hans responds the embrace. “Until sometime, maybe. If you want to return to us, I and my Van will wait for you.” “Thank you for everything.” “I have to thank you.”

Sniper leaves the train with a slightly hanging head. Barney and Dorothea are still whisper sweet nothings. “Baggage and passenger are stowed away.” “Oh, good, good. I hate to leave you, Dorothea, but I have to stick to the schedule.” “That's why I love you so much. Always responsible-minded.” The two give themselves a kiss on both cheeks and their mouths. Dorothea and Mundy are still standing on the platform and watch the train until it has disappeared on the horizon. Just as he had promised. “And there he goes again.” “Yeah…” “Well, back to my post.” “Will you get along alone?” “Of course~” With a smile Dorothea steps into the wooden building to go back to her seat behind the counter. “So many nice young men in one day” Mundy hears she sigh. That makes him smile. He turns round. It's time to go back to the base. Tomorrow is a fight with the BLUs. The first fight in the new year. He wants to prepare himself a bit.

When Sniper enters the base, he meets Engineer. “Hey eh… Dell? How'd it go here?” “The Doc wants to see you. He is quite irritated.” “Why?” “Don't know. Maybe because you took too long to come back here.” “Is that a joke?” “The good Medic doesn’t seem to be the type who is joking.” “Hey, your helmet looks somehow different, mate.” “Doc says I shouldn't wear my helmet the wrong way round, because that's too childish.” Engie rush past him. Not yet three days here and the guy is making everyone to his enemy. Even the otherwise good-natured Engineer is upset. I think I'll have to need a talkfest with him! Mundy is on his way to the infirmary. Friedrich is already waiting for him there. “Finally” he greeted the sniper. “It took a long time.” “The train station is not around the corner.” “That is not an excuse. However, if I look at your van, you are really not so fast.” “Don't blame my van!” “Sit down.” “I’m not ready yet-“ “Sit down I said!” “………” So the sniper sits down. This guy is adamant anyway. After Friedrich took blood from him and Mundy is about to go, Friedrich asks: “Where are you from?” “What? “You do not look like an American and you do not sound like that either. So, where are you from?” “…New Zealand” “An Australian then?” “Is that a problem?” “No, I just do not like you.” “What's you problem with people like me? As far as I know, Australians haven't occupied Berlin.” “That is true. But I do not hate you because of that. I just do not like hillbillies.” “What do you call me?” Sniper rushes towards Friedrich, but suddenly the two Dobermann dogs are standing in front of him, bare their teeth. Mundy hadn't even noticed that they were in the room at all. They must have been under the table. Mundy is not stupid enough to mess with these menacing dogs. With a last warning look, he leaves the infirmary.

In the common room he meets Demo, Spy, Pyro and Scout. When he passes by the demoman, he takes the bottle out of his hand, ignores his protest, sits down at the table and takes a big sip. “What’s wrong, pally?” “Pfft! As soon as I get back from the train station, the new Medic insult me as a hillbilly!” “But you're a ‘illbilly.” “Shut up, you back stabbin’ snake!” “But Spy is right!” Scouts laughing. “Your burnsides, your hillbilly mouth… Besides, you fight with bow and arrow like a… a...eh…” “Bushman.” “Yeah! Hahahaha!” Sniper has two options. Either he gives Scout a whipping, or he takes a big sip of rum. He decides for the second. “Demo” Mundy says with a conciliatory voice. “Today you have a drinking buddy.” “Actually I mustn't drink anymore. If Medic catches me, I'm in trouble.” “We can do and leave what we want! Who's this guy already?” “Our Medic? Medics are be in charge by nature. Or would you like to contradict him? I won't. In the end, he will take vengeance and rejects to healing us during a battle. I don't want to run a risk.” “When you're sober, you're a coward, Demo.” “Ach, fuck off, lads.” The mood is at its lowest point again. Mundy hates it. Only Pyro seems blithely. He sits under the table and plays with matches. At times Sniper has the impression that he's a child or would see the world with different eyes. Sometimes he envies him.

Suddenly, the voice of the new Medic echoes through loudspeakers. “Suffkopf! Immediately into the infirmary!” “…what? What did he say?” “Suff…kopf…? What is this supposed to be?” “Hey, Spy. You know the potato language.” “’e's calling for you, Demoman.” “What?! Oh no! I don't want to be alone with him again! Are you coming with me, Scout?” “Are you kidding me?” “You, Sniper?” “This is your battle, mate.” “A great drinking buddy you are. Spy?” “Don't be pathetic.” “You are really great friends…” “Mmpf.” Pyro crawls out from under the table and holds a holds a hand out to to Demoman. First, Tavish is unsure what Pyro wants from him, but then it becomes clear to him. Gratefully he takes his hand and together they make their way to the scary doctor. Sniper is gazing after them. Apparently, Pyro knows what's going on around him. He takes another big sip from the bottle.

  Team Fortress 2

  Medic has been on the train for nearly two hours. The landscape slowly begins to change. He had left Archimedes out of his cage and now the dove sits in front of him on the table, the little button eyes directed at his owner. “What do you look at me like that? Don’t worry. I bet our new home will be just as beautiful as the last one. Perhaps it’s not so bad to smell city air for once again.” “Coo~” “Come here.” Hans holds his index finger out to Archimedes and the dove jumps up. Together, they look out of the window. It starts to snow. The desert is behind them now. “It's been a long time since I saw snow the last time. It is almost strange to see it float down the sky. It's almost ... fascinating.” “Coo~”

Suddenly, the door opens to Hans's cabin and the train attendant stands in front of him. “We are about to arrive in Cedar City.” The burly man observes the dove on his finger and makes a deprecatory sound. “Put the dove back into the cage. Animals are not allowed here.” “But this is a closed cabin.” “That doesn’t matter.” “…I see.” The train attendant leaves the cabin. “I'm sorry, Archimedes. Back in your cage. At the beginning of our new life, we don't have to ask for trouble.” The dove obeys and jumps to his seat, while Hans closes the door behind him. He sighs. Talking to this man, if only briefly, was strange and unpleasant. “I'm just don't get used to the people out there. I think this could spell trouble.”

Twenty minutes later the train arrives at the station. It is still snowing. The station is snow-covered and Hans can hardly wait to walk on it. It's been too long already. The unfriendly train attendant helps him to carry the big birdcage out of the train. Normally it doesn't seem to belong to his duties, but Hans suspects he is glad to have the doves out of the train as soon as possible. Now he stands there and looks around. The air is cold and the snow cover under his shoes is thick. He pulls the jacket tighter around his body. Again, there are not many people on the platform, but it's still more lively than on the one in the desert. “Err… Excuse me. Can you tell me where I can find a place for the night?” The train attendant looks at Hans skeptically; then he replied unfriendly: “Leave the train station, turn left and follow the road. There is a small building with the inscription Hotel. It's hard to miss.” “I haven't been with people for a long time, but doesn't they say it's not to be missed?” “You asked me and I answered.” “Is everybody here as friendly as you?” Hans doesn't feel offended. Quite the contrary. He enjoys the conversation with this man, who is looking as if Hans would unnerve him. “You are certainly as humanitarian as you are animal-friendly, aren't you? I can understand why you are a train attendant. You always have to keep moving if you make friends in the cities like you.” “…go to hell.” “Oh, there I was already.” Hans smiles at him. The train attendant gives a contemptuous sound and retreats into the train. “Nice guy. I bet we could have become friends.” “Coo~” “What do you mean I’m talking too much, Archimedes?” “Coo~” “You mean I have to contain myself? That's easier said than cooed. With my team, I have always talked like this. But yes, I know. I'm no longer there. This will be a difficult new life...”

An old, scratching laugh sounds behind Hans. “The guy is talking with a dove. And I thought I was crazy.” The former Medic turns around and sees an old man in front of him. His clothes are old and dirty. His gray beard used to be white once for sure. “Of course, I talk to Archimedes. He understands me. At least I sometimes get this impression.” “Well, in this city it's difficult to make friends. You just got out of the train, but I've never seen you here. New here?” “Yes… Yes, I am. I plan to take a hotel room.” “Shall I help you with your baggage?” “That would be too friendly.” “Oh, sure. No one else is friendly in this city.” “So bad?” “I was born in this city. But the people don't care that I live on the street.” Hans and the stranger lift the big cage. He clamps the suitcase under his arm as he wears Archimedes' cage with the still free hand. “But I'm the only homeless person here. And that's good. So no one can contest my sleeping places.” “Sounds perfect.” “Yes. But I don't complain. As long as I don't starve.” “How do you get your food? Surely you have no money?” “Bumming, theft…” “………” I was really way too long isolated from this world...

They reach the hotel. From the outside it looks pretty and moneyed. On the way there, the people went out of their way. Does want Hans really start his new life here? He could go to a bigger city. However, the distance between him and his team would be much bigger then. “………” “So, here we are.” “Thanks for your help. Maybe we will meet again.” “Most certainly.” Hans leaves the large birdcage outside of the entrance for a moment, enters the hotel and goes to the reception. A young man is sitting behind the counter. He also eyed Hans skeptical. This look seems to be typical of the people in this city. Probably it doesn't mean anything. “Hello. I'd like a room.” “…no.” “Excuse me?” “Pets are not allowed.” A slap in the face for the native German. “They're just doves.” “Flying rats, in my opinion. Carriers of diseases. Get rid of them or leave.” Hans hasn't been here for half an hour and people are already beginning trying his patience. He does not let anything come over his lovely doves. “I assure you, they are absolutely house-trained.” “Pets are not allowed.” “………” Hans is about to go for the smug young man's throat. If he still had his bone saw, he would now take it out and cut this silly expression out of his face! “Coo~” Archimedes draws his attention. The button eyes look up to him, look almost reproachful. Hans clears his throat. “I get it. I will go. With my doves.” With a raised head he leaves the hotel. The homeless person is still there. “What's happening? Rejected? As was to be expected.” “What is their problem with animals?” “Take it easy.” “But where shall I go? I don't think there is any other hotel.” “You are absolutely right.” “What should I do? I cannot leave my doves here in the cold.” “…hey. You can come with me. Over the winter I have my sleeping place in an empty barn. Is nothing special, but it's quite warm.” “Really? Thank you. What would I do without you?” “In a city full of unfriendly people, there is always one that maintains the hospitality. Even if he is a bum.” “That’s okay for me.” They lift the big cage and march off. The barn is just a few meters away from the small town. There is hay and an old oil lamp. “Here your doves are spared from the cold. But we have to carry them over there.” “What?” The homeless person points upwards. There is a floor. About four meters above them. A ladder leads up there. “Why?” “Well, I said that the barn is empty, but now and again the owner comes by. He does not know I'm here and that's shall stay like this.” “………” Hans eyed the floor and the ladder. He doesn't have a good feeling. “Well, all right. Here goes.” The stranger climbs first on the ladder, with one hand he holds the cage holder. Hans comes from below. The ladder wobbles. The cage becomes heavier. Hans can hardly hold it. They are almost up there when the cage suddenly slips. His helper can not hold it alone, and so the cage with Hans' babies falls the four meters and lands with a loud bang on the wooden floor. By the impact the cage broke open and all his doves escaped. They fly outside through the open barn door. “No!” Hans descends the ladder as fast as he can, he jumps off the last meter. As soon as possible, he follows them outside. They are already high up in the sky. They don't even turn back when Hans calls them. With hanging shoulders he's gazing after his beloved doves. They begin to merge with the gray sky. The homeless person goes over to him. “Hey, I'm sorry your doves have flown away.” Hans shakes barely noticeably his head. “They don't just fly away. They fly home.” Only very reluctantly he goes to Archimedes' cage and take him up. “And you? Do you want to fly with your siblings?” The dove looks at him, his head lying on the side. He goes out with Archimedes, opens the cage and holds it up. “Go ahead. Fly.” And Archimedes flies. Hans turns his back on him. He cannot watch his favorite dove leaves him, too. On the questioning look of the homeless person he answers: “A family shouldn't be separated.” Suddenly, he hears an approaching flutter and shortly thereafter Hans feels something on his back. “What the…?” Archimedes flies on his shoulder. “Archimedes! What are you doing?” “Coo~” “Oh… I knew you wouldn't leave me.” Hans tilts his head slightly to his dove and gently strokes its head. “Ha. Are you something like a dove breeder or something?” “No, actually, I'm a doctor. I’m here to find work.” “Oh, a doctor? That's convenient. I have a very bad corn. Could you look at this?” “………” “Hahaha! Don't worry, my boy. That was just a joke. Tell me, where are you from? You didn't speak English with your dove.” “…originally I came from Germany.” “………” “I'm not a Nazi, if you think so. And I'm not on the run either.” “Don't worry. That you are a Nazi was not a thought of me. But I was betted you were on the run. The Germans who living in America have no longer an easy life here, since the war was broken out. The Americans distrust them.” “Yes, I understand that…” Medic sighs inwardly. As soon as he is away from his familiar surroundings, he's suddenly confronted with such topics. His team was never talking about it. Well, now and then Soldier had always indicated something, but he had never meant it badly. That's just he. But out here it feels different. Threatening. Insidious. Real. The safe isolation of the desert is gone. At all things, everything had a different reality there. He was able to have his team recovered with the help of a healing beam. If they died in a fight, they were brought back to life. This is no longer possible outside here. As if this is a separate world and in the desert a different one. That is precisely why Hans had changed the worlds over more than 20 years ago. Strange that my first thought was that he could think I am a Nazi. That must be because of Friedrich. As soon as he was there, the past was present again… “Oh, hey. My name, by the way, is Ben.” This brings Hans back. “Nice to meet you. I am Hans.”

  Team Fortress 2

  The next day.

The Mercs are preparing for the fight. Their holiday lights are still hang around their weapons, which they had donned before Christmas. When Friedrich sees this, he looks disbelieving. “What is that? Are you serious? This looks ridiculous.” “This is what we do every year. Get used to it, old man.” Friedrich throws a threatening look at Scout. Heavy puts his ammunition belt on and with his Minigun he gets himself into a good position in front of the gate.

Today it's the first time that they will fight with the new Medic. Misha is not worried that he might not have practiced with Medics weapons and medigun. Friedrich seems to be very responsible. But that doesn't mean he has a sense of teamwork. Yesterday he had not eaten with them. Neither lunch nor dinner. He always moves back to the infirmary, and when he wants to talk to them, he calls their names over loudspeakers. However, he doesn't name their real names. He already has a nickname for each of them. They seem to be German, so Heavy doesn't understand them, but he's sure they're not meant to be affectionate.

“………” “Hey, lad. You’re alright?” Demoman puts a hand on Heavy’s broad shoulder. “I hope yar fit for the fight. It seems to me that we haven't fought the BLUs for ages. They are certainly as excited as we are.” “Da… And have their old Doktor.” Demo sighs. “Oh Heavy. It will be allright. Just let a little time go by.” “New Doktor hates Heavy.” “Maybe… maybe he's just nervous. I mean, new country, new job, new people. Maybe he just doesn't know how to react. Ya cannot know that because I was here before ya, but when I was new, I had to vomit all the time.” “Why?” “Well, I guess because I was nervous. I think everyone reacts differently. We should give him time. Give him some understanding.” “………” In this way Heavy hasn't looked at that yet. Maybe Demoman is right. Everyone needs time to get used to it. Even with him, that was no different. And it had worked very well because everyone was always so nice to him. They must also be nice to Friedrich. “Ya can do that, Heavy. Ya have a good heart.” The Scotsman slaps him amicable on the shoulder. Miraculously, Misha feels better now. He feels motivated and wants to spend a little more time with the new doctor in the future. He pretends to hate Russians, but maybe he's just afraid of them? Heavy will prove to him that he doesn't need to be afraid of him.

“Mission begins in thirty seconds.” Heavy looks over at the Medic. He is surprised. Instead of the Medigun, he holds the crossbow in his hands. Heavy doesn't have a good feeling about it. “Mission begins in ten seconds.” Like in state of shock, the team is waiting for the gate to open. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” The roller door rises. “Get behind me, Doktor!” But Friedrich has other plans. He is the first one who runs on the battlefield. The team looks confused. Then they followed him hastily.

Heavy is too busy with killing and remaining alive as when he could look out for Medic. But what he is well aware is that he doesn't heal him. He can only hope that at least he will take care of the others. But this go up in smoke when he hears Scout calling for Medic in panic. After Heavy took care for the BLU Soldier, he turned to the boy. He lies on the ground, his head is bleeding heavily. And then he sees Medic. He'd noticed Scout, but ignored him. Instead, he decides to kill the BLU scout. As fast as he can, Heavy runs over to Scout. “Leetle man!” Scout inhales the air strongly between his teeth. “This goddamned Medic!” “Here.” Heavy hands him his sandwich. “Thanks, pally.” “Medic doesn’t mean it-“ “You bet he does! I told you before this is an asshole!” “…we just have to-“ “Don’t give me the same bullshit like Spy!” “Heavy! Scout! Watch out!” Both look up and are hit by a bomb at the same moment.

Mundy is really trying to concentrate on the fight, but he cannot help observe his new doctor with the sniper-scope from his hiding place. He does not heal his teammates. If so, then only sporadically. Then he shoots an arrow at them. Even from a great distance. Sniper have to admit that he is a good shooter. And he’s actively fighting. But only with the crossbow. He must give several shots at an enemy, so that he dies at all. But the man in the 50's has a high stamina. Résumé: They have now a Combat Medic in their team. “Great…”

Scout suddenly calls for him. The Medic turns around and Sniper also swings his weapon towards Scout. He lies hurt on the ground. As far as Sniper can judge, he is seriously wounded. His head is soaked with blood. But Friedrich makes no effort to help him. And Sniper knows why. In his eyes, Scout has no chance anymore. And the arrows really don't give much healing. For Medic, it would be a waste to send an arrow for him. “Wanker…” At least Heavy takes care of the boy.

Suddenly Sniper notices the BLU Demoman. He had targeted Heavy and Scout. “Heavy! Scout! Watch out!” Unfortunately Sniper had seen him too late. The Demoman had already shoot a bomb on the two. Mundy eliminate him with a focused head shot. But unfortunately the two didn't make it. They were torn by the bomb. Sniper lowers his sniper rifle. This is going to be a long fight.

The REDs return to their base. After hours of fighting, they are exhausted as never before. The fact that the new Medic had not perform his main task, the struggle had become more and more protracted. “What’s your fucking problem?” Scout growls. “I do not know what you mean. I gave everything in the fight and scored a binary kill.” “You. Are. A. Medic! Medics aren't supposed to fight! They are supposed to keep us alive!” “Pah! Like you? Just do not think I did not see you. You are a veritable suicide commando.” “I can take care of myself!” “I have seen that. But let me tell you one thing, my boy. Medics do not heal scouts. I do not know what Hans did, but he wasted his time with you.” Scout stands there with his mouth open. He looks very hurt. Engineer now intervenes. He tries to cool down the situation. “Listen, Doc. Ya certainly meant it well, but-“ “You are not an offensive class but a support class, maggot! You abandoned your team, soldier!” Friedrich doesn’t let himself be worked up. Instead he answers: “I have also observed you. If you were do your rocket jumps less, you would not have to call for me all the time. That applies to you, too, Suffkopf.” Demoman still doesn't understand this word, but he knows that he is meant. “And you…” Friedrich now turns to Pyro. He looks at him with his head lying on the side. “What’s with Heavy?” Demo interrupts him. “He is neither a suicide, nor does he harm himself. Why did not ya at least help him? Hans and Heavy were always the perfect duo. They have protected each other.” “I will. When the diet is working. He is much too slow. With less belly I can surely do more with him.” “Tell me one, you wannabe-Combat-Medic. If you feel compelled to fight rather than to heal, then why don't you use the bone saw for that? Or all the other creepy weapons of Hans.” “Bone saws are not there to kill, but to serve the medicine.” “Man, you’re so narrow-minded. Don't make such a fuss!” “HANS is a sick man who is obsessed with his medicine. And at the same time he flouts at all consequences. What do you think why he lost his license? And what did I tell you about respect for the adults?” “I don't give a fuck!” Scout grabs Friedrich's collar. Before the others can stop him, the Dobermann dogs suddenly stand in the room. They growl at Scout threateningly. “Your terror dogs get on my nerves.” Benjamin sticks out his tongue. Their growls grow louder and they make a few steps towards him. “Oh- oh…” Now they are running toward him and Scout sees to it at he comes away. They chase him out the door, down the hall. “This is not nice.” “Is anyone talking to you, Russian?” “His name is Misha” Mundy defends him. “And as for the medical license. We knew about it, but Hans never let us feel it. He was ingenious. Maybe a bit crazy, yeah. But ingenious.” “Hmpf! It does not surprise me to hear that of someone who urinates in glasses and collects them like stamps.” Friedrich turns his back on the Mercs and goes. Sniper is perplexed. “How does he knows that…!?” The others show with a hand and head movement that they didn't tell anything.

In the early evening, they all sit together at the dining table. Even Friedrich. However, only to control that Heavy does not eat more than it is allowed. In addition, so Scout does not drink any energy drink. And so Spy does not smoke. And so Demo does not drink any alcohol. And so Pyro does not play with fire. And so Soldier cannot picks his nose... “Hey… A lock has been affixed on the refrigerator. I do not think I need to ask who is responsible for it.” Actually it doesn't matter to Scout whether the refrigerator is locked or not. His bonk is stored separately. And besides, he is furious because he has to sit on a rubber tire, as one of the Dobermann dogs had bitten him in the heinie. He even has the fear that he can never sit properly. “I consider it necessary to make sure that a certain person does not eat the food during my absence when he is not supposed to.” Friedrich's ice-blue eyes fix Heavy on the other end of the table. “And just by the way, my boy, I've locked all the cans up. Hans was so friendly and has already removed all the cans from the machine. This also applies to alcohol, cigarettes and coffee.” Mundy is spluttering. “The coffee, too?” he utters indignantly. “Apart from the fact that all these things are harmful, they also cost a lot of money. The very ammunition for the several weapons is a pure fortune.” “Are you also a financial planner or something? Mind your own frigging business! After all, we don't have to pay for everything but Mann Co.” “It can only be beneficial to learn how to save money and curb its consumption.” “And what if we want to eat something from time to time?” “Then come to me and ask for the key.” “And then you decide who is allowed to eat and who not? Who do you think you are?” Friedrich rises from his seat and with a sternly look he looks down at the Mercs. “I am your Medic. My job is to keep you from any damage. Human beings are created by nature in such a way that they constantly injure themselves. In any and every possible way. Be glad that you have someone out there who will keep you from it. But also ingratitude is an integral part of the life of man.” “You want thanks? I give you thanks.” “Sit back down, Jeremy” Spy reminds. “Bite me! If you want to crawl in front of him, do it! But I will never accept this shit! Someone should muzzle you! Just like your tikes.” Friedrich looks at him with a look, which makes clear that a muzzle for Scout would not be a bad idea either. The runner leaves the room. He wants to get away as fast as possible, but the injury to his butt makes him look like a robot while walking. Slow and stagnant. The backward ones remain silent.

  Team Fortress 2

  Hans stands in front of the only hospital in town. It is a rather small building. But exactly there he wants to resume his work as a doctor. He had left Archimedes with Ben. He does not want to take the risk not to get this job just because he holds a dove as a pet. Ben had offered to look after Archimedes. And he is trustworthy as far as Hans can judge. And, after all, it is not forever. Toward the end, he had still advised him to hide his German accent. But that’s easier said than done.

He enters the building through the double door. There is not much going on. Few people sit nearby on chairs and wait for doctors and nurses. He turns to the woman at the counter. “Hello.” “Hello. What can I do for you?” The woman in the 40s smiles at him. Finally another nice face. “I'm here to submit my application for a job as a doctor with you.” “But of course. Doctors are always to be used. Even in such a sleepy city like this” she laughs. “You can say that again.” “I assume that you have already completed the necessary apprenticeship?” “Of course. It has been more than 20 years, but fortunately, the expiration date never expires.” “Okay. Do you have your documents?” “Oh… Well… I have nothing here right now. They have been lost during my move.” “I see. This is not a problem. Tell me where you have made your apprenticeship. Then we call there and ask them to send your documents.” It will be a tight squeeze for Hans now. He knew that something like this might happen, but he still hoped that the people would just leave it at that. “Well… I…” “Ah! Doctor Burnsfield! Do you have a minute?” The woman waves a man in a doctor gown nearer. “What is it, Mrs. Kelly?” The man is on the same eye level as Hans. Short hair, brown eyes and a friendly smile on his face. “This gentleman wants to work at our place as a doctor.” “Hello.” The doctor gives Hans his hand. “Welcome. Have you already asked for the documents, Mrs. Kelly?” “Yes, but he probably lost them.” “No problem. Name us the institute where you did your apprenticeship and we clarify that.” “Yes… So… The institute is located in...Berlin.” “Berlin? Okay, which federal state?” “That Berlin, which I mean, is in no state. It is a federal state.” “So you did your apprenticeship abroad? Why not? Perhaps it's even an advantage here” laughs the doctor. Hans' insecurity disappears. These people here are quite nice. Perhaps it does not matter whether he is a German or not. By the time he had named his name, it would have been clear. He does not notice his own accent. That is why he does not know whether he is talking with accent. But so far nobody has reacted to it. So he takes heart. “My apprenticeship was done in Germany.” “…Germany? When?” Suddenly the doctor's tone becomes sharper. “That's almost 30 years ago.” “…what is your name?” “…Hans Ludwig Freud.” The woman and the doctor falter, look at Hans with wide eyes. Their eyes say everything. Nazi, world conqueror, destroyer, murderer... “Sorry, but we have no room for another doctor. I must ask you to go now.” “I see…” And Hans goes. He can feel their eyes in his back. He still remained polite, although Hans knows that he hates him and fears alike, and so he would gladly have thrown the corresponding words to his head. Who knows? Maybe they are afraid, he can curse their with his black magic.

“How'd it go? When I look at you, probably not very good.” Hans climbs up the ladder to the attic where Ben and Archimedes are. “They don't want to work with a Nazi. You know, it doesn't matter how much you try to hide your origins. When a German stands before them, they know that it is one. There is always something that betrays you.” “And what are you going to do now?” “Take into the next train and go to the next city. Maybe I have more luck in a big city. In any case, there must be a place somewhere in America, where folks don't immediately condemn people like me.” “You cannot blame them for that.” “Perhaps. But the war has been over for more than 24 years. How long shall this go on?” “You have not been in America since today? Where did you live before?” “…in a place where people have accepted me as I was. It was not about origin or skin color. We were one. A family.” “If so, why are you away from there?” “Long story…” Ben nods. “I know when I have to keep my mouth and not ask any further. But you should not move immediately but stay another night here with me.” “Doesn't that bother you?” “Nonsense! When have I ever company?” Hans barely nods to himself. Today it didn't go well. It's going to be better tomorrow. The next city is far away. He will have to drive a long time. So it is better if he rest for the rest of the day and is fully aware of the new reality. He knew he might have to put a defeat or two. But he hadn't expected that.